So this is the 1984 Ben Cooper Hairy Scary Clown Costume. I found it at the thrift store, neatly folded in a small box, obviously never worn. Because if it had been worn, it would have been ripped. Those plastic smocks never lasted the entire night of trick-or-treating. At least mine never did, but maybe it’s because I TRICK OR TREATED HARDCORE. Or because I refused to wear my glasses with my costume and I walked into stuff. Probably that.
Let’s ponder the reasons it was never worn. Oh yeah, there’s just one. BECAUSE IT’S FREAKING CREEPY AS HELL. I’m not into the whole “scary clown” thing, but I’m pretty sure I now own the Mother of All Scary Clown Things. Look at the expression on the mask. Look at the chest face. Seriously, THE CHEST FACE.
Kids today and their cotton/poly blend costumes. In the 1980s, we wore sheets of plastic that were barely a step up from kitchen trash bags. And the plastic wasn’t even really a costume itself, but just a picture of the thing you were supposed to be. In case you couldn’t tell the kid in the clown mask was supposed to be a clown, the gigantic terrifying CHEST FACE really drove it home.
Part of me wants to save this for my future kid just so I can see people’s faces as my kid struts around in this. Trick or treat. They’d be so scared, they’d just hand the whole bowl of candy over to us. Jackpot.
Part of me wants to BE THIS for Halloween and just pin that chest face to myself in all its raging glory.
Part of me wants to wear this out of context and just go to the grocery store in it.
Part of me just wants to get this thing out of the house right now. I don’t even know why I bought it, except to show you people on the Internet, and there now, I’ve done it. Time to burn it. Except you know this thing is hosed down in flame retardant, a fume I’m still nostalgic for to this day.